


Were we written in the stars?

by TaleWeaver



Series: Ad astra per aspera - Phase 1 [2]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: F/M, Skyeward Week
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-19
Updated: 2015-01-19
Packaged: 2018-03-08 06:01:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 633
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3198098
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TaleWeaver/pseuds/TaleWeaver
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>A man and his dog witness a mysterious crash in the woods.  But no one gets eaten by the Blob. </i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Were we written in the stars?

**Author's Note:**

> For Skyeward appreciation week 2015. DAY TWO – PROMPT: LITERALLY FALLING IN LOVE

Buddy barked as he raced ahead through the woods, and Grant hastened his pace. The noise that had reached him all the way at the cabin had sounded a lot like some sort of crash.

 

But Buddy was all but blind to anything but the trail, and once Grant followed him into the small clearing he understood why; he’d never seen **anything** like the strange pile of glittering blue metal. Whatever it was, it had left a burn trail right across the clearing, which Buddy was cautiously sniffing along. Grant took a swift glance around, and saw a gap in the tree-tops, where whatever this thing was had smashed through high reaching branches on several trees.

 

Coming closer to the debris, Grant sucked in a shocked breath: it was some kind of **aircraft**. Wondering if he was going to get arrested by Men in Black Suits and forced to sign the Official Secrets Act, Grant headed to where a clearer patch seemed to indicate a windshield of some kind.

 

Looking into the cockpit, Grant saw a young woman, barely out of her teens, with light brown hair tumbling in waves around her shoulders. She wore a sort of avant-garde flight suit, in red leather that clung to her slender form in all the right ways (and a few wrong ways, for his peace of mind).

 

Then her eyes opened, and the brown irises locked onto his. The impact felt like he’d been punched in the solar plexus, but there was no pain. Just his breath stalling in his lungs, and the feel of the earth shaking beneath him.

 

With that single look, he would never be the same again. With that single look, the young woman he would name Skye (because she fell from it) slid past a lifetime’s worth of painfully erected defences, to embed herself in his heart, like shrapnel he didn’t want to work free.

 

*

 

The girl who hadn’t always been named Skye (but who liked ‘Skye’ much better, frankly) was a member of a long-segregated, technologically advanced tribe of genetically enhanced people that called themselves the Inhumans. She’d fled in her personal aircraft to avoid being traded to a man twice her age in a political marriage; the idea that she would find her genetically ideal mate on the journey had never occurred to her, let alone a mate who instinctively recognised her as such as well!

 

Skye had always been a take-charge kind of female, so it made perfect sense to her to seduce Grant that same night. Once they’d hidden the remains of her aircraft, the next few days were spent having sex on every flat surface in his (now their) cabin, and a few curved ones.

 

*

 

Regardless of how wonderfully wierd their life together was, or how happy it made him, Grant could never quite stop doubting that it was the DNA-induced mating bond that kept Skye with him. No matter how many times Skye reassured him that she would have fallen in love with him anyway, because he was almost exactly what she’d always wanted in a mate, Grant had spent too long being told he wasn’t good enough.

 

At least until Grant stumbled across Skye’s diary, recorded in her ship’s computer. The Babel microbes Skye had infected him with during those first days of constant, unprotected sex let him understand the language she’d recorded her thoughts in. One of the earliest entries was a childish list of what Skye wanted in a husband, with several sets of notes and revisions she’d added throughout the years.

 

It was a little disappointing that Skye had dreamed of a blond-haired, blue-eyed man only slightly taller than she was. But at least he filled the other 23 requirements... and he **did** drastically exceed the required stamina in bed.

**Author's Note:**

> _NOTE: I originally had a more complex idea in mind for this, and if she read this as is, my occasional writing teacher would shake her head in reproach, and send me back to re-drafting with ‘show, not tell!’ ringing in my ears. But 1) I’m pretty sure I was overthinking my original idea and 2) I’ve re-drafted Day One so many times I’m sick of editing, and I haven’t even started Day Three yet! Hope you like this anyway – and who knows? I may even get back to exploring this idea properly some day. (Hint: leave a comment/review to let me know if you think that’s a good idea)_


End file.
